Mistletoe
by Evie Warner
Summary: At the time, it might have been a bad idea to go mistletoe-crazy. But in hindsight, he couldn't bring himself to care.


**Author's Note:** I'm feeling Christmas-y, so why not spread the joy? :D

**Disclaimer:** Nope, Pokémon still isn't mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Mistletoe<strong>

-0-

There was nothing special about their Christmas, but they'd be lying if they claimed to be dissatisfied with the traditional routine. Each December, family members scattered all over Unova would gather in the designated location to exchange gifts and rounds of eggnog for a week straight, then come the new year, the extended group would disassemble back to whichever corner of the region they had come from, silently content not to bother contacting one another until the next annual get-together.

This year should have been no different.

Except that it _was_.

_Stupid snowstorm_.

It just had to materialize overnight, specifically before the morning in which they had intended head over to Aspertia City. They should have been sprawled out in the living room by now, each nursing a cup of hot chocolate whilst less composed cousins and aunts burst out into a merry choir of Christmas tunes. But no, instead they were stuck holed up in their shared apartment in Nimbasa, with hailstones threatening to shatter the window panes and no promise of respite.

A spontaneous snowstorm was nothing uncommon this time of year in Unova, but this particular blizzard was on a whole new level: a lesser man would have believed Kyurem itself were unleashing a personal vendetta against the entire region.

At least the trio couldn't say the festive cheer was completely absent: Rosa was determined to make the best of a sucky situation. She'd broken into the emergency holiday supplies and strung tinsel from every surface, baked a gingerbread house to stick on display, and decorated the tree four times over until she was satisfied with the arrangement.

Ever the optimists, Hugh and Nate were unmoved.

Rosa pouted and whacked them both with a leftover roll of wrapping paper. "Seriously? Our plans change _once_ and you guys gain the personality of a Shroomish? Nu-uh, not on my watch."

Naturally, she coerced them into baking their own gingerbread houses, adamant on turning her lone cottage into an edible neighbourhood. But amidst the faulty scales and a broken oven timer, it was little surprise that the masterpieces in the making emerged resembling misshapen lumps of charcoal.

"Well, you can't say we never tried," she said as she prepped the icing bags. If the neighbourhood wasn't remotely edible, it could at least _look_ nice.

-0-

The blizzard was relentless. Looking through the window, Hugh could barely make out anything beyond a few inches. He could see a _bit_ better the time he'd braved the chilling temperatures to make a last minute dash to the nearest store, but even then he'd have received more visibility by sticking his face into a bowl of ice cream.

Still, with the route to the nearest convenience store committed to memory, sight was hardly required, anyway. Clearing the shelves of enough to last them through the week, he braced himself and trudged back through what he swore was knee-deep slush.

He kicked open the apartment door, his fingers too stiff from the cold to bother fumbling with the doorknob. Rosa was perched cross-legged on the living room floor, her tongue poking out in concentration as she wove together several strands of faux greenery.

"As far as makeshift decorations go, I'd have drawn the line at gingerbread," he comments, dumping the frostbitten grocery bag on the sofa.

"Hush, you. _One_ of us has to spread the festive cheer, and clearly you aren't up for the job."

Though despite her best efforts sharpened concentration, the finished product was sloppy, at best.

"Eh, this one can be yours."

-0-

Hugh bundled up a pile of wreaths in his arms, each one unique to the last. Rosa had claimed each one represented their own individuality; one for herself, one for him, and one for Nate.

Considering she'd stuck a variety of ribbons and berries onto the fake greens with cheap glue, he doubted the _masterpieces_ would last long enough to see the light of Christmas day. But he'd have put up with cleaning up after the steady withering of the berries several times over if it'd distracted Rosa from the other tradition she'd insisted on upholding.

Was it really necessary to hang mistletoe in _every_ doorway? What was she hoping for, that somebody would wind up kissing someone they shouldn't?

Actually, yes. He wouldn't put it past her.

All in "the spirit of the holidays" or some other excuse. Just because it was Christmas, it didn't mean he was willing to walk around the apartment with his lips constantly puckered up.

He nudged clumsily at the door with his hip until it swung open, and for a moment he believed his sheer annoyance with the situation coupled with his inability to use his arms had caused the door to magically open for him. But by the breathy "_Woah!_" that followed, he knew it was just Rosa.

He tried to ignore the irrational disappointment that he hadn't spontaneously developed telekinetic abilities.

"Y'know, you could've asked for help," she said, propping a hand on her hip as she stepped back slightly to observe. Somehow, he just _knew_ she was smirking.

"Are you offering?"

Rosa tittered, then moved forward to relieve him of part of the burden. But she paused in mid-action, azure eyes drifting upward.

Hugh followed her gaze, and tried not to grimace. **Mistletoe.** Now felt an appropriate time to complain to her about her zealousness, but before he had time to react, the wreaths were exploding out of his arms as Rosa's hand curled beneath his chin and pulled him forward so she could plant a sloppy, disgustingly wet kiss right on his lips.

She had the tact of a rampaging Gyarados.

His mind sparked out, struggling to reboot whilst simultaneously trying to comprehend the situation, but before he could garner the sense to shove her away, Rosa had pulled back with a loud, exaggerated _smack_ and flashed him a flirtatious grin as she released him.

It was stupid, really. For a moment he was capable of nothing more than his ability to gape mindlessly at her, his lips tingling from where she'd none-to-gracefully latched into them with her own …

But then Hugh's hand immediately shot up to wipe at his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. "_Augh!_ Rosa, that's disgusting!" he spat, his face twisted in a grimace.

She merely laughed as she knelt down to scoop up the fallen wreaths, popping back up with a, "Christmas is a time of love and giving, Hugh, and that was my gift to you."

Never before had Rosa looked so decidedly smug, so proud of herself that Hugh wanted nothing more than to hit her. So naturally, he did.

"Ha, ha, ha," he drawled sarcastically, retracting his fist and revelling in the way Rosa grasped at her arm.

Despite the _ouch_ she muttered, she laughed. "Don't you mean '_ho_, _ho_, _ho_'?"

As she skipped off with a wreath tucked under her arm, his cheeks were flushed, and he was certain it wasn't from the heat of the apartment. He tugged the collar of his hoodie upward and blinked fiercely before he chanced a look in Rosa's direction, finding her positioning a Babiri berry wreath on the fogged up window.

_You're an idiot, Hugh_, he scolded himself, turning away from her. _It's warm and everyone's stressed, that's all_.

But try as he might, he couldn't justify the hammering of his heart and the weakness in his legs. And once he'd finished his portion of the decorating and escaped to his room, he hadn't looked back at Rosa once.

-0-

It was petty; childish, even. But his pride often overworked his ability to be rational whenever victory threatened to land in Rosa's hands.

His plan was simple, practically fool-proof. It all came down to replicating the same stunt she'd pulled on him under the mistletoe.

(And should his body react in the same way, then … that was a bridge he'd cross when he reached it.)

Acting natural wasn't a problem: with so much of the stuff hanging from every doorway, it was a simple case of being aware of his surroundings rather than hiding in them. Rosa was almost never the early-riser, so lingering in the main room before she woke up was easy in itself.

So when he heard the tell-tale noise of her yawning as she shuffled within her room, he slipped out of the living room, hovering just behind the doorway and out of sight until he saw Rosa rounding the corner in her sleepy, groggy state.

This was it.

Hugh inhaled deeply, glancing at the mistletoe with guilt broiling in his stomach and nerves sending his heart into a frenzy.

He was being ridiculous: this was just an experiment. Revenge. _Science!_ What reason did he have to get so nervous about science?

It was simple: be swift and speedy enough to plant a kiss on her _before_ she could react and instinctively give him a bloody nose.

Unfortunately, the glaring flaw in the plan became apparent to him only _after_ he'd leapt out from his hiding spot and clamped his hands down on his unsuspecting target's shoulders. Or closer to the point, when he'd already planted a kiss on **Nate's** cheek just as sloppily as Rosa had kissed him a few days prior.

And for the briefest moment, they both froze over, confusion paralyzing one of them, and humiliation grasping the other. It was purely a desperate grab at any halfway dignified escape that prompted Hugh to break his stillness to puff out his cheeks and blow against Nate's skin until the air leaked out from between them and produced a loud raspberry.

Nate spluttered out a hopelessly confused "_ew!_" and stumbled away from Hugh, clapping a hand to his cheek. He scrubbed the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away the copious amount of saliva left behind, all while a gleeful cackle reverberated from behind the semi-open door.

Hugh's fists clenched. That sly little _minx!_

… and suddenly, any leftover embarrassment was squared solely upon the small fact of obliviously walking right into a trap she must have had set up the minute she'd decided on embellishing the apartment in mistletoe.

Nate watched in bewilderment, piecing together the chunks of evidence before him as he slipped past Hugh to enter the kitchen. In a lifetime of enduring the shenanigans of the two, he'd learned it was typically best to stay far out of the conflict.

On cue, Hugh spun on his heel and shoved the door fully open to declare "I will get you back for that!" to the smirking brunette awaiting him.

"Is that a challenge, cupcake?" Her eyes glimmered with anticipation. "C'mon and gimme your best shot. _I dare you_."

Crimson eyes narrowed as Hugh tried to suppress his amused smirk. "Oh, don't think I won't."

Rosa tittered. "Oh, poor baby … getting in too deep with the big girls, now?"

He took a step towards her, and in unison she leapt away from where she leaned against the armchair, bracing herself as Hugh raised his arms menacingly. She was pretty damn speedy when the time called for it, and could easily outrun both her roommates in a time of dire crisis. Unfortunately, the cramped living room didn't provide nearly enough space for a quick escape.

A brief struggle later, and Hugh's arms were clamped around Rosa's waist … and the smirk fell from her lips as his grew, azure eyes widening as she felt his fingers graze her waist.

She knew that look. He knew her weakness.

Rosa shrieked, a barrage of unwilling giggles escaping her as Hugh dug his fingers against her stomach, beneath her arms, around her neck, and anywhere else he could reach, rendering her unable to do anything but writhe like a startled Tangela as their loss of balance sent them crashing in a struggling heap onto the sofa.

His attack was gentle—nothing like the brutality she could inflict with a deadly combination of hyperactivity and sharp nails—but brute force was nothing compared to applying just the right amount of pressure to send her into a laughing spasm.

"Stop!" she squealed, uselessly batting at his hands. "Okay, I give! _I give!_"

-0-

Come Christmas morning, and the region remained enveloped in a glacial blanket.

Her optimism as strong as ever, Rosa had crept about the apartment during the night and retrieved the presents they'd packed away for their return to Aspertia City, stashing them beneath the tree. Despite the late night, she woke early and dashed into her roommates' abode, making enough noise to rouse the both of them before she'd reached them in order to drag them out of bed, bleary-eyed and barely conscious.

"You couldn't just … _wait_ until we can actually celebrate?" Hugh asked amidst a yawn. "It's freezing."

But Rosa was relentless, and begrudging as he were to admit it, her enthusiasm was infectious. To a certain degree. She thrust the designated presents in the correct direction, eagerly watching for their reactions and forgetting to touch her own presents until they pointed it out for her.

When all was said and done, Hugh scooped his loot into a pile and returned them to his room, slotting them back into his suitcase. He came back to the main room to find Rosa playfully prodding at an uncertain-looking Nate.

"It's Christmas," she groaned. "Don't I at least get a kiss?"

A pink hue lit up Nate's cheeks. "I, uh—do I have to?"

Quick as a flash, she snatched up a piece of withered mistletoe and held it above her head. "Oops, look what happened! Seems like you don't have a choice. Now pucker up, buttercup."

For all her lack of self-control their kiss was barely as such. Her lips brushed against the corner of his, lingering for a moment before she pulled away. And Hugh was _definitely_ imagining the slight stutter in his chest.

Then her gaze met his, an all-too familiar gleam residing in them, and the sensation vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

"Nope, not happening," he said. "Don't even think about it."

Being the mature young lady she was, Rosa pouted. "Ah, c'mon. One for the road?" she cooed, jiggling the mistletoe playfully.

He couldn't say what exactly had coaxed him on, but he knew for a fact it _wasn't_ the distant pang of regret that may or may not sink in should he turn on his heel and make an exit.

It was such a chaste kiss, barely enough contact to count as one. Nonetheless, the effect was unbelievable: warmth dusted his skin from the point of contact, robbing him of all other coherent thought, disabling him momentarily and allowing her to slip from his embrace.

Futile as it was, he tried gulp down the fluttering feeling in his chest.

-0-

It wasn't until a few days before New Year that the roads were declared safe to travel on again. However, with their original means of transportation now rendered useless, making it to Aspertia City with minimal hassle seemed possible only by cashing in on an owed favour.

So by noon, it was Touya picking them up en route. And half an hour later they were on the outskirts of Nimbasa City, with Nate riding shotgun next to his brother, and Hugh sandwiched into the backseat between Rosa and Touko.

The two girls chattered happily for the first hour, as though the living roadblock between them weren't there. Then Touko cracked the window open a little, claiming nausea and allowing a chilly blast to circulate through the car.

Hugh felt Rosa shiver violently and wrap her arms around her middle, shifting closer to him to mooch off his warmth. She gave him a dopy smile, content to quietly hum along to the generic songs on the car stereo in favour of letting conversation die out.

Ten minutes later, she was out like a light.

Was Rosa a beautiful dreamer? It would've been easier to tell if she favoured any other sleeping position than one that involved her burying her face into her pillow. But if it were any constellation, regardless of beauty, she was the picture of tranquillity: curled up in her over-sized sweater, shoulders rising and falling at an even pace, slight murmurs escaping her lips as she dreamt on, and her soft breaths melting through his shirt and enveloping his chest with warmth.

She'd fallen asleep on him. That was nothing new. From childhood to the early steps of adult life, it had been a regular occurrence, no big deal. He'd even returned the "favour" a few times, albeit unwillingly.

So why now, of all times, did it feel … not different, but multi-layered, perhaps. As though _something_ had always been there, but he'd never consciously taken notice of it.

He sighed, closing his eyes.

He was so screwed.

-0-

Every year, the family get-together was a concoction that brewed inevitable chaos. They'd spend 'til lunchtime in their pyjamas, bicker, belch, laugh—everything that was required for the _happiest time of the year_.

This year, the botched Christmas do had prompted the idea to throw an extravagant New Year's party to make up for it.

Hugh tugged at the collar of his shirt, irritated with the choice of attire being a choice of formal or fancy dress. There was _zero_ chance he would be convinced to don an elf costume, whittling his choice down to a suit he'd worn a grand total of once in his whole life.

Molly was pretty as a picture in a crisp white dress, her hair styled in red ribbon, but he was willing to bet the clear shade would be beyond salvation by the end of a hectic night filled with too much food and drunken dancing.

Having the largest home, it was Rosa's parents who had insisted on hosting the event. And Hugh didn't know how they'd managed it, but whoever was behind the arrangement of the Christmas lights had done their job to perfection. He was used to blinding rainbow strings coiled haphazardly around bonsai trees, but this was something else entirely: they were nestled into the hedges just so that each light looked as though it had been grown there, and as they edged closer to the house, he saw red and white candles flickering on the corner of each step.

Inside, the house was alive with people, voices and light. Music was blaring the limited selection of appropriate songs available, and more than a few people seemed to be working on their fourth drink at least.

Touko scurried over seconds later, clad in a simple LBD with her hair hanging loosely in curls, and discreetly led the siblings out of the fray. "I've been here since they were sober," she spoke over the music, "trust me, it's all downhill from here. I'm saving your souls."

She guided them to the basement-slash-rec-room ("My bachelorette pad," Rosa had insisted.), which was done up just as beautifully as the rest of the house: faux candles flickered here and there, a few Vanillite drifted over head scattering a light dusting of snow over the room, and a much-too-large tree stood proudly to one corner of the room.

Then he was snapped out of his revere when a hand clapped down on his shoulder, one that belonged to the very person he didn't want to be left alone with. He spun round to come face-to-face with Rosa, decked out in a velvet Santa dress.

_Somehow it doesn't surprise me she'd go for fancy dress_, he mentally lamented. Then aloud, he greeted her with a mumbled, "Hey."

Rosa inched closer so she could hear him over the noise, lightly grasping his arm sending an unwelcome shiver up the back of his neck. "And here I thought you'd look gorgeous in green. Without my elfin army, who's supposed to do my bidding?"

"You've managed so far, haven't you? I'm surprised you haven't coerced Nate into any of this."

"Oh, fear not. I have a job for him."

With that, she beckoned them to follow her, weaving them through the crowd in order to reach the far back, where the elegance of the room was only disturbed by Nate himself, looking a tad disgruntled beneath the light-up red nose and the antlers on his head, surrounded by a group of kids.

"You look _smashing_, Nate," was Rosa's comment on the matter, as she lightly pecked his temple.

Molly, on the other hand, was visibly restraining herself from bopping him on the nose.

-0-

It spoke volumes about his anxiety on the matter when he resigned himself to seeking out Touya for advice.

Second to Nate and himself, Rosa had been closest to Touya. And that bond was profound enough that asking the elder brother wouldn't be a complete misfire.

"Sometimes, a kiss is just a kiss. Especially one under the mistletoe," Touya had said with a half-hearted shrug. "It doesn't necessarily mean anything."

Although Hugh couldn't say he was thrilled he'd wound up tripping over his words, then proceeded to screw it all and spill out every detail about his situation in the past week. Still, aside from a raised eyebrow at his lack of tact, Touya had made no comment on it.

"I know I felt a _little_ off when she kissed Nate. That was just Rosa being her typical self, but … damn it, I felt so—" His words seized up in his throat at the sight of Touya's knowing smirk.

"Envious, huh?" He chuckled good-naturedly. "I'll be honest, then: I think you have it bad for her. And if you want my advice, then take it casual. _Maybe_ it's just a crush, maybe not. But just because you work as friends doesn't guarantee you'd make a good couple. You're both young, so take your time."

-0-

It was wrong.

Hugh felt nauseous, almost. He'd excused himself on the pretence of going for a walk in the fresh air, but stood shivering in the yellow glow from the streetlight much longer than he had any reason to.

There was no simple way to say it, but he couldn't suppress the cold, hard fact of the matter anymore. He liked Rosa. As in, he _like_ liked her. Oh Arceus, it was wrong on so many levels.

Why couldn't he have gotten a crush on, say, Touko? He doubted it could've gone anywhere, but it would have been acceptable, in his books. She was pretty, talented, and kind … why couldn't his thoughts be squared on her?

But no. It just _had_ to be the girl who would ultimately run the remains of his sanity through a shredder one day.

-0-

"I was gone for barely ten minutes."

"An _hour_, Hugh. I had to convince your mom not to send out a search party. You're welcome, by the way."

It was hardly a new occurrence for Rosa to be frowning at him, but it _did_ make him uncomfortable to be aware of the fact that yes, he thought she looked cute in her miniature rage. It was degrading, embarrassing, and cliché all wrapped up in one.

Who was he kidding—she always looked cute. It was just simpler when he didn't know he thought so.

"Couldn't I just apologise and get it over with?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You, apologize? Just like that? Seriously, you don't take me for an idiot, do you? You're up to something."

"'Scuse me?"

"Don't make me spell this out for you. You've been moody all evening. Look, I know none of us wanted to come, but is it that hard to make the best of a bad situation? All you had to do was smile if people looked at you and enjoy the free food. But no, you had to go and bail. You weren't even subtle about it. Quick tip, hot shot: when you don't want people to notice you're gone, you don't _draw attention_ to the fact that you're leaving."

"Duly noted."

From the look in her eyes, he'd have sworn she was weighing the benefits of bursting out into an explosive rage right then and there, but then she blinked and resigned herself to an irritated sign. "Fine, whatever. Just don't go into theatrics. You suck at acting, and that's as much a compliment as I can manage."

"I appreciate the sentiment. I just needed some time alone, s'all."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Time alone? Since when do you not stand in the centre of the room and brood over whatever there is going on in that cute head of yours." Then both eyebrows soared as she smirked. "Ooh, lemme guess, you found a special someone? Is it Touko? Please tell me it's her, she's the only one I approve of dating you."

"Rosa, _no_. It's not about love, nor is it about Touko."

"Yancy, then? 'Cause I hate to break it to you, but she's got a blatant crush on Nate, who I'm not even sure bats for the same team—"

"Can we stop this conversation? Like, right now? Because I could always leave and never come back."

For the life in him, he couldn't fathom why he felt the need to spill his love life, or lack thereof, to Rosa.

So there was more silence. And yet more staring.

Then azure eyes flickered upwards, and Hugh found himself following her gaze.

"Mistletoe," she observed, fixated upon the small spring hanging from the ceiling directly above them.

Time seemed to slow down.

His initial thought was a childish impulse to leap out from beneath the mistletoe and laugh it off. He'd been caught under it more times than he cared to acknowledge, and the living room, decorated as it may be, was no winter wonderland. But despite everything, he didn't want to offend Rosa.

Not that he believed she would be.

But then again …

Hugh's gaze flickered back down, really drinking in Rosa's appearance for the first time. She may not have been a legendary beauty, but she was undeniably pretty, with her long, soft hair and delicate facial features, her skin smooth and tinted pink.

And her eyes. Her wide, expressive azure irises, filled to the brim with mischief and wonder.

However, looks were deceiving, and he'd be a fool to take the bait. Rosa was easily the most capricious girl he had ever known, completely capable of switching from ecstatic, to melancholy, to utterly enraged within the span of a few seconds.

But still, in the times she wasn't driving him up the wall, she calmed him. She _got_ him, believed in him.

And even in light of recent suspicions, he felt no particular need to jump away.

"You might want to be careful, sweet-cheeks," her voice snapped him from his revere, "it's all fun and games when home alone, but when we're over here, who knows who might wander in and give us no escape."

She was giving him an out, Hugh realized.

…

He passed.

"Eh, what's the point when you aren't living life on the edge?"

Then in the blink of an eye, he captured her lips with his own, muffling her small squeak of surprise as his tongue traced the outline of her lips, coaxing them apart so that he could invade her mouth.

He might have hoped to relish the victory of _finally _catching her off guard, but it lasted all of a few seconds before she recovered and met his tongue with hers, engaging him in a fiery dance.

She loved tropical fruits; her lips assaulted his taste buds with a mango tang.

Rosa was the one who pulled back first, smiling up at him in a dizzy delirium. Her hair was beginning to unravel out of her trademark buns, spilling chocolate strands across the pale skin of her forehead and framing her pink cheeks. She was smiling for real now, and that became all that really mattered.

She looked even more beautiful than she had before.

-0-

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Overly fluffy, perhaps a little cheesy, but I'm happy. Merry Christmas! :3

-0-


End file.
